Ingenium (✓) | Sherlock Holmes

🎓 18*countenance

"She is not an ill-mannered person, James." I stated, my scrutiny analyzing his oscillating features. His mien travelled from unhindered wrath to a lover's demise. It was equally odd as it was entertaining to witness a rational man fall on his knees because of a woman – a chocolate-skinned one, may I add.

I was unsure of Miss Adams' origins and how she infiltrated under Moriarty's flesh, but it was a weakness worth exploring.

"Your muse, Rhea Adair, has so many aces up her sleeve that she would make Houdini seem like an amateur. I wonder how she managed to play you so well." James affirmed, choosing to sound deadly serious rather than a Joker.

I gritted my teeth, clenching my fingers on the bottle of bourbon I was pouring in my tea. I was the one supposed to strike a chord in him, not the other way around. Where was my power of dominance when I needed it the most?

It got buried underground by one plump, witty, countenance-melting woman. My inner voice responded, earning a low, nerve-stretching growl on my behalf.

"If you feel the urge to splatter me with some mud, allow me to return your service. Tell me more about Monique, you puppy-eyed romantic." I snickered, sensing the vibration of the table as Moriarty's hands started quivering.

"Why would I give you the shovel that can dig up my grave?"

"Oh, therefore you do recognize her as your weakness."

"Just as much as you do with Rhea. We are alike even in this matter." James' shoulders lowered, as if that similarity somehow ironed our bond.

There was not supposed to be any bond, I realize that now. He was too much of an evil-revealing mirror to grant him such interest. He unearthed the serpent in me, a serpent so devious, so vile that it would do much more than offer an apple to a female called Eve. It would make the woman leaning against the Tree of Knowledge decay so irremediably that a light-year-worth of generations would rot and rust.

So, who was God's foot pressed against the serpent's neck?

Rhea. Rhea bloody Adair. If I did not spend so many a time fighting with the idea of her, maybe I would not wreck my self-control so easily.

"If you believe, even for one bloody second, that we are Siamese cats licking each other's paws while sipping on milk and haunting mice, you are clearly deluded." I retorted, shaking off the sensation of being stared at incessantly.

"I would have compared us with Orthrus, Cerberus' brother, but I presume your version is suitable as well." Moriarty passed his chipped tongue on his lower lip, narrowing his eyes as he soul-searched me even further.

He was definitely sensing something I have not noticed yet. It was only then when I realized how distressing it must seem to be analyzed and judged so carelessly, as if I were a new object recently launched on the market, whose price was desired to be the lowest. Was I really such a hypocrite, that I could not admit how cheap I am feeling when being treated as I have treated others?

"Why are you staring at me, James?"

Moriarty shifted in his seat, yet his visage remained in the same position, his evil glint still present in his orbs.

"You have changed."

Well, that was an interesting topic to be discussed.

"How exactly?"

"You are more human, you care. People do not seem like faulty mechanisms anymore. You even smile at some when passing alongside them on the street. You notice small, tender gestures, but you do not criticize them anymore. Instead, you tilt your head aside, ponder on the sight you are given and smile even brighter." Moriarty's voice softened, and a miniature curling of lips appeared on his face.